I spent about an hour unsubscribing from unwanted emails today, including those from iSubscribe. Where do they all get my email address from? And, no, I don’t need to buy any contraband Viagra. Also, how do I know that asking me to tick the unsubscribe box isn’t a scam? And, why do I even bother to tick the ‘Don’t Show This Message Again’ box. That’s two seconds of my life wasted. Just think what else I could be doing with that time.
Ian came over tonight, to find me stuffing my face with Freddo Frogs. He helped me with a few, got chocolate all over his hands, so went to wash them. Unfortunately, he has developed this annoying habit of loudly singing Happy Birthday to himself twice whenever he washes his hands. It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t add all the Hip, Hip, Hoorays at the end, and expect me to join in.
Also, as it turned out, maybe I shouldn’t have been so hasty in unsubscribing to a couple of those email lists. I wonder if Ian is getting tired of my body. They say, Elle, that for every beautiful woman in the world there is some man somewhere who is tired of making love to her. So, what chance do I have?